


Brood Mare

by broodxbitch



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse, Birth Fetish, Breastfeeding, F/M, Labor kink, Lactation Kink, Multi, Ogres, POV Female Character, Pregnancy Kink, Spitroasting, Stockholm Syndrome, Teratophilia, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 05:41:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21248360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broodxbitch/pseuds/broodxbitch
Summary: Marcy, a human kidnapped by ogres, has two jobs- do as she's told by the matriarchs, and push out babies.





	Brood Mare

**Author's Note:**

> Read the tags. This is 100% lactation/pregnancy/labor/birth fetish material, focused on a human being forced to be a brood mare for ogres. Don't whine to me if you don't like it, tis what it says on the tin.

Ogres, despite how utterly vicious they are once grown, were completely helpless as infants.

This was a fact Marcy knew well after so many years, continuously being bred and birthing babies for her tribe. They literally cling to their mothers mere weeks after birth, reluctant to let go for the first year and never too far away for the first three. She had three babies under the age of four, with her fourth one nestled firmly in her womb. Sometimes her guesses were off, but she was fairly certain this newest addition would come by the next full moon.

Years ago she had screamed and spat and swore she'd kill her captors before making her escape. That will to flee had disappeared about the time her pussy had been spread wide as she struggled in vain to pass her first child. Something about childbirth had the capacity to change a woman. She'd thought she would be disgusted, seeing that wrinkly green baby dangling from between her thighs, still attached by the cord that disappeared back up her cunt. Yet despite the fact that her children were exceedingly _not human_, she loved them all the same. A part of her still hated their fathers, but she could never leave her babies and wouldn't dare risk their safety by taking her with them. No human town would accept a woman willing to keep four bastards from another race.

The tribe didn't exactly have a traditional system, at least not traditional to how she was raised. When she'd been kidnapped, she'd assumed she'd be the captive of the Ogre who'd taken her. Or passed to a specific one and held as that individual's conquest.

Not quite the case- Marcy was communal property, evident by the green toddler that followed at her heels, and the red and blue infants who clung to her chest, their mouths never far from her breasts if they could help it. The red one, her middle child, was progressively becoming less clingy and more content to walk beside his mother like his older brother. By the time his newest sibling was born and old enough to hold onto Marcy unassisted, while he would still likely nurse from her for another year, he'd start venturing on his own, leaving room for the new baby to cling by her breast.

The baby in her belly rolled, her tight skin clinging and showing every movement of the massive child. Squirming uncomfortably she struggled to stay focused on the task at hand. Even so close to her due date, she had work to do. The tribe was, she'd gathered, one of the smaller ones, consisting of the 10 ogre males and their various females, both human and ogre alike.

There was no way in telling who the father was. Some guesses could be made, based on who had bred her the most when she was fertile again, but it was merely that- a guess.

Her current youngest, not quite a year old, whined and nosed at her until his mouth found her breast. He eagerly latched onto the stiff nipple, not having to work hard before her milk let down. The feeling was immediate, and in both breasts to boot- feeding three, soon to be four, hungry babies left her with her breasts near bursting 24/7, constantly dribbling a thin stream of milk. There was almost always a hungry mouth to feed. If not one of her babies then one of the ogres themselves. They never seemed to outgrow their taste for human breast milk, especially the ones who'd been born to a female of their own race. More than once in the middle of the night, when Marcy was asleep with her brood the tent would open, one of the hulking figures venturing further in before getting into the pelts with her, unceremoniously latching onto one of her breasts and draining her dry.

It was a welcome relief. Her breasts ached terribly anytime she wasn't being nursed from, always swollen from how much demand there was for her milk. It wouldn't take long at all for her milk to replenish itself enough to feed one of her babies should they get hungry during the night.

The droplets from her unattended breast splattered against the dozing red child's cheek, stirring him from his nap. In a second he latched on as well, both babies suckling vigorously.

The whine of relief was almost embarrassing but now she could focus on the pelts she had to process. She's not able to rest yet, having as much as a month to go before she finally bedded down and had this next baby. Until then, there's work to be done. The females kept the human women in line, or at least their version of in line; Attached to her babies as she was, that was enough encouragement to keep Marcy from stirring up trouble in the tribe. She just wanted to be left to tend to her babies in relative peace.

More recently captured humans though? Typically not as agreeable.

She'd learned the hard way that the matriarchs were not to be trifled with. That lesson was one that stuck with her to this day, and she tried to avoid drawing their attention in any capacity if at all possible. Unless she was laboring to have a baby, she kept her head down and did the best she could to be ignored by the others.

Finishing with the hide, her babies nursed unhindered while she stored the last pelt. It would sit, then be ready for use- mostly likely cut for baby blankets or clothes, but that wasn't her decision. They had been very clear that she had two jobs; take care of her children, and do only what she was told. Anything beyond that held potential for a reprimand, which she did not want.

Her work concluded for the day, Marcy slowly waddled her way back to her tent. It wasn't anything elaborate, but it was a reasonably private place for her to sleep and tend to her brood. Encumbered by her massive girth, she couldn't do anything quickly- even her gangly toddler could beat her in a race right now, her stomach as heavy and distended as it is.

Once back in her tent, she began to do her nightly routine- namely ensuring everyone was fed. Once her youngest had a full tummy of his own, her eldest took his place and latched on. Even with his siblings clinging and pawing at her near constantly, Marcy was an over producer and had plenty of milk to share.

After feeding, they're nestled into their bed, a small collection of pelts off to the side from Marcy. Close enough that she can care for them as needed, but far enough away that they won't be rolled over on top of or otherwise injured during the night.

Finally able to rest, she nearly moaned once off her feet and giving her aching joints a rest. This late in her pregnancy, everything was sore. Her massive, round belly put a constant strain on her back, her spine dipping in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure. Her hips ached constantly. With human infants, the baby dropping was a sign of impending labor in the next few days. Not so with ogre babies. They'd drop, then sit and press for weeks before her water would finally, blessedly break and she could start pushing in earnest. Perhaps it helped her body prepare for the birth, loosening things up. Each labor Marcy had screamed to anyone who would listen to help her, that she wouldn't be able to pass the child, that _this_ time would be the time when she well and truly split in half.

And yet all three times she'd finally get past that last burn of the shoulders slipping free just shy of tearing in two. Crowning and passing the shoulders was enough to drive a woman to the brink of insanity. The only reprieve was that the rest of the body was quick to slip out from her abused nethers once that massive hurdled was surpassed.

Sprawled out on her own pelts, it didn't take long for her to close her eyes and sleep.

When she woke up, it was still pitch black outside. Aware of a weight on either side of her, it took her a moment to realize that two of the males had laid down next to her, each with a nipple in their mouth.

Moaning quietly, the far more powerful suctions of the adults stirred a primal and far less maternal urging in her, unlike when she fed her babies. The strong draws provided the most relief for her ever heaving bosom, Marcy squirming softly underneath them to readjust herself. It was a comfortable situation for her, laying on her back in the dark with nothing but the loud smacks of their lips as they continued to drain her dry.

Each suckle sent a jolt of electricity straight to her cunt as her fingers lightly trailed across their bald heads. With every part of her so dramatically swollen and aching, just the relief in pressure from her breasts was nearly orgasmic. Rubbing her slick-coated thighs together in a vain attempt at getting some sort of friction, the rapidly swelling cocks pressed against either side would surely be stuffing her full once they'd had their fills of her milk.

Marcy, unsurprisingly, was correct. A few minutes later the pair finished with her tits before guiding the human woman to her hands and knees. It took a bit of maneuvering, given she wasn't near as agile with her heavy belly to work around, but soon she had a hard cock in front of and behind her ready to be serviced. Not bothering with preamble, she was quick to swallow the prick at eye level with her. Another side effect of her pregnancy with the hormones was being nearly insatiable for a thick cock to thrust up against. Moaning lewdly around the rod in her mouth, she gagged as the first thrust from the orge behind her pushed the other's cock further down her throat than she'd anticipated.

Pushing herself far enough back that he wasn't stimulating her gag reflex, she recovered quickly and went back to work. Slobbering all over the prick in her mouth, Marcy whimpered pathetically as she was rocked back and forth between the two.

Whatever taunts or teases came from the ogres fell on deaf ears, the much smaller human focused solely on the near-burning spread of her pussy as she was fucked with abandon, and breathing through her nose around the cock stuffing her gullet.

Their holds on her were rough, the one behind her with a bruising grip on her hips while the one in front had a fistful of her hair.

The high pitched whine that escaped her was dreadfully needy, taking nearly no extra stimulation to work towards her orgasm. They hadn't touched her breasts or her clit once and yet here she was, ready to fall to pieces just from being stuffed and fucked. Her popped out belly button lightly scraped across the ground every few thrusts, her cumbersome belly hanging low underneath her.

From the way their thrusts became progressively less focused and more erratic, they were getting close. Desperate to feel them cum inside her, she did what she could, redoubling her efforts to swallow the cock in front of her while trying to squeeze her vaginal muscles around the prick in her cunt. Rewarded for her efforts, the ogre in front of her reached his climax first. Whimpering as he yanked her by her hair until her nose nestled against his pubic hair, she struggled to catch her breath the moment he released her.

It was an unexpected reward when the ogre behind her reached a hand between her legs, stroking at her swollen clit. As wound up and needy as she was, it only took a few strokes of that rough finger pad before she clasped a hand over her mouth. Hips bucking as she tried to muffle the sound of her orgasm, Marcy felt the other ogre finally reach his own as well, burying himself and holding her still for a moment before slipping out of her.

Alone just as quickly as she'd found herself having company tonight, the exhausted human woman made a half hearted attempt to clean the mess between her thighs, and casting a glance to the corner to make sure her babies were still asleep before curling back up herself.

Waters break mere days later, but they're not Marcy's- one of the other women went into labor with her first child, with Marcy assigned by the matriarchs to attend her.

It was painfully obvious that the woman, Janine, had yet to adjust. Marcy remembered those days. “Just take a deep breath, it's time to start pushing.”

“I'm not giving birth to some freak!” The words were harsh, a final attempt from the woman at asserting herself.

“Your baby is ready to be born whether you like it or not.” She assured her, attempting to remain calm despite growing annoyed by the woman's vitriol. She'd been fighting for hours, struggling to deny her labor and impending motherhood. Marcy, who was so very ready to finally expel her own child from her womb, was finding her patience wear thin.

Janine wasn't the first, and wouldn't be the last to have a drastic change of heart by the time she left the birthing tent. Marcy just had to keep her temper in check until then.

With Janine being so inexperienced, and on the narrow side build-wise, this was going to be a long and strenuous birth for her.

More hours passed, the laboring woman screaming as her belly seized her in a tight band.

“You're doing well, Janine. Just breathe and push.”

“It's not coming out! Oh my God, why isn't it coming?!”

The panic was familiar as well, and something Marcy was far more tolerant of.

“Your body is capable of far more than you know. First babies can take their time.”

The look on her face was skeptical, but she didn't have much choice than to trust Marcy's word, did she?

Marcy's own baby rolled tightly in her belly, causing another twinge of jealousy while Janine's pussy bulged obscenely in preparation of crowning. She hoped the pheromones of labor would quick start her own despite knowing full well she'd likely have another three weeks before she would find herself laboring in this tent.

Janine's screams were shrill but far less irritating than her harsh denials; Marcy could not blame her for them, knowing full well how difficult the first one could be.

“Push and hold it for as long as you can, Janine. Your baby is ready to crown.”

The poor soon-to-be-mother couldn't seem to hold her pushes long enough, the baby repeatedly starting to spread her lips only to retreat back inside once the contraction ended.

“Breathe and push. You're doing great,” she reminded her, well aware of how difficult it was to focus when one's body was so locked in on how out of control everything was.

“I can't!” Janine wailed as the baby peaked out from between her lips only to disappear again.

“Yes you can. Hold it and count to ten,” Marcy soothed.

A few moments later another wave seized Janine's belly, as Marcy marveled at how massive it was. The poor girl was carrying a monster of a child, and one who was clearly content to stay tucked into his mother's womb and in no hurry to leave.

Janine's grunts and whines as she pushed were background noise, barely heard by Marcy as she focused between the soon-to-be new mother's legs. Finally the laboring woman managed to hold as she pushed, the baby's head spreading her further than it had before. Crowning beautifully, another twinge rolled through Marcy's belly at the sight of the infant splitting Janine in half. She had to be _burning_ from the effort of crowning.

“Good girl, the head's out. Relax until your next contraction, that will be the real work.”

“Real work? Everyone always goes on about the head. It's not coming out?”

“Not quite yet,” Marcy chuckled. Poor first time mother, no clue what she was doing or what to expect.

That was okay. Soon Janine would be an old hand at squeezing out ogre babies. Some of the more experienced mothers were only in labor for an hour or two before their little ones fell out of them, from waters breaking to placenta. Marcy's youngest had only taken about 7 hours, a far cry from the day and half of laboring with her first.

The time passed quietly except for Janine's panting as she rested, Marcy's tightly stretched belly showing the curves as her infant wriggled inside. Despite its press low in her hips, the baby was incessant in its movements.

The laboring mother seemed to have finally come to terms with her situation, lying quietly against the pillows as she laid and waited.

Janine's whines alerted Marcy to her impending contraction, seeming to have gotten the hang of how to expel her baby. The pushes were far more sustained than they had been initially, one shoulder emerging from her engorged pussy and then the next.

“There we go, both shoulders are out. One more push and you'll have your baby.”

Rather than a scowl and vitriol, relief and apprehension were written across her face, “Really?”

“Yes. One more big push and you're done.”

That was all the encouragement she needed, buckling down and pushing with all her might.

Marcy's hands were there to catch the purple baby as he fell out of his mother in a gush of fluid, Janine quick to reach between her legs and pull the baby to her chest.

Guiding the new mother through getting her child to latch, Marcy decided not to comment that it would be easier once her first born had caused the new mother's small, perky nipples to expand. Though adorable to look at, they wouldn't be of much practical use feeding these infants. Those cute breasts would do an adequate job of feeding the child initially, and eventually be modified from round the clock nursing to better suit life as one of the brood mares.

Pondering to herself at how small the child seemed in comparison to the size of Janine's swollen belly, Marcy realized the cause about the same time Janine's belly contracted again.

“What's happening? You said I was done!”

“It seems you managed to tuck two inside there, and now the second one is ready to make its way out.”

Janine's wails and complaints of exhaustion lasted another hour, her second child violently aggressive in his pursuit of freedom in comparison to her eldest.

Different fathers, an orange baby sprawled between her legs after all the fuss was said and done.

Cleaning up the tent, Marcy left the now-pacified mother as her two newborns suckled her.

Twins were a rare commodity, and one that would ensure Janine's place as one of the favorites for every set she squeezed out.

Gods, she was ready for this baby to be in her arms and not pressing on her bladder constantly.

The weeks ticked by and Marcy's girth expanded even further, impossibly so. Now when the ogres fucked her they left her on her back, having learned the hard way doggy style would rub her thin skin raw,

It wasn't all bad. Getting her pussy and mouth pounded, clit teased, and two other mouths latched to her were certainly not the worst ways for her nights to go. Especially when the four adults bickered about who got to latch to what tit.

All things came to an end, and she was thrilled when her pregnancy finally came to a close.

Marcy whined in relief when her water broke after almost 10 months of carrying her newest addition in her belly.

Guided in the labor tent, the woman there was more to assist if anything went wrong or got stuck than to guide her through it. Marcy did however appreciate the moral support- Labor was far less daunting with someone else there.

Almost a certified old hand at this, she struggled and breathed through her contractions knowing full well she'd likely be back in this tent next year with her 5th ready to emerge.

The baby progressed well as the time ticked on, Marcy extremely aware of how the infant penetrated her cervix and nestled in her birthing canal. Each push brought the baby steadily further down, Marcy looking between her legs to enjoy how her body pressed and bulged. Her poor pussy felt like it was on fire from the stretch, Marcy positive that none of the others had stung this badly when they'd crowned. Wasn't labor supposed to get easier with each successive birth? Slumping against the pile of pillows supporting her, she was able to angle her body to get a peak as her bulging lips, spreading wide as the head started to show itself.

The baby between her legs was ink black, from one of the biggest males in the entire tribe. No wonder crowning had been excruciating. This baby was going to be around 20 pounds, larger than anything she'd pushed out.

Yet she was far from done, psyching herself up for the intense contraction to follow. Pushing as hard as she could, Marcy stared at the ceiling blankly in submission.

Every time she'd labored she swore she'd tear, though the delicate skin that separated her ass from her cunt had held tight. None of her babies were as large as the one currently trying to enter the world. This time might be the one and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

One shoulder came, stretched her out further and tighter. Marcy couldn't breathe, knowing full well she needed to take a breath to get this baby out.

She didn't want to-prayed she wouldn't. The sister in the tent the matriarchs had sent could stitch her back up if it came to that, but she'd seen other mothers struggle to heal and keep clean while tending to their children and heading off the advances of the males. She didn't want that, and finally came to accept she had no choice in the matter. She would either tear, or she wouldn't, from this massive child splitting her in half and there was nothing she could do about it.

Forced into a sort of trance from the finality of her situation, she breathed with small pushes, agonizingly aware of how spread she was.

This baby would be a massive monster as he aged, from how he wrecked her body even as she yielded in utter submission.

Another stronger push ushered the other shoulder as she convulsed with weak tremors from the mind numbing pain. She had _never_ been spread this far open, her huge baby hanging only partially out of her.

Her nipples were puffy and abandoned, so used to constantly having a mouth latched to them and having been unattended to the entire birth- her babies were being watched by other mothers, allowing her to focus all her attention on bringing her newest one into the world. Milk dribbled to the floor in preparation of the new arrival, soaking the shirt she wore through.

One final push had the baby laying between her legs in a massive puddle of the birthing fluids expelled along side of him.

Feeling like she'd been run over by a herd of bulls, Marcy was too weak to pick up her own son, having to wait until the birthing assistant could lift him for her, helping to maneuver her shirt to expose a breast.

He latched like a snake striking at its prey, quick to grab at her breast and squirm as he settled in.

It was only hours later when she was returned to her own tent with her other three babies, despite her fawning over her youngest, that she felt an ache deep inside of her.

Marcy would never leave the tribe, even if the perfect opportunity for escape presented itself. Barely half a day unencumbered and she already missed the feel of a massive baby growing inside of her. She couldn't wait to be pregnant again.


End file.
